Eye of the Storm
by cybErdrAgOn
Summary: Begins in the Marauders' seventh year and will continue at least to the Potters' deaths. It is a time of transitions, new beginnings, and sad farewells as the students of today venture deeper and deeper into the outside world...
1. Chapter One: Idyllic Summer Days

Disclaimer: Under the internet alias cybErdrAgOn, I do not own or claim to own any portion of the works of J.K. Rowling, including but not limited to Harry Potter. That being said, I am not liable in a court of law for any damages caused to readers by mutilation, destruction, or otherwise harm to any characters. Anything which you recognize as yours or of another author's is not mine.

Chapter One: Idyllic Summer Days

"Gerroff me…now!" mumbled one sleepy James Potter as he suddenly jumped up, eyes wide open, and pushed whoever had just hit him with a soft object off the bed. He rubbed his eyes with the back of a tanned hand and glanced at his watch for the time, but there was no need. A dazzlingly bright ray of sun shot through a crack in the heavy blue drapes, explaining perfectly clearly that it was already around ten. With a wide yawn, he leaped off the four-poster bed to land right next to-Sirius? Of course, remembered James, mentally slapping his head. The Marauders, with the exception of Peter, were staying over for the remaining three days of summer, and frustrating as he could be, Sirius was a welcome break from the monotony of homework (none of which he had actually finished), parties (Lily wasn't there, so they didn't count), and simply lying around the mansion.

From his position on the carpet, Sirius shot a wide grin up at his best pal, then raised a brow quizzically. "Geez you sleep a lot," remarked the tall black haired boy. "And don't touch the hair," he added just as James moved his hand up almost reflexively. "It's messed up enough already, and there's no one to watch."

"Except us, and we would prefer not to see you practice before you try the girls," finished Remus, who had been standing in the doorway observing them with a completely logical eye. He stepped into the bedroom, taking special care to walk around the body lying prone on the ground and stopped next to the window. "Right then, up you get," he said, and signaled Sirius, who promptly dumped a bucket of cold water on James. Simultaneously they grinned, the all-knowing glint back in their eyes. 

James stood up rigidly, momentarily shocked by the icy water. But soon he regained the usage of his arms and grabbed the pail, tossing it lightly at his friend's head. "All right all right, I'm getting up. Don't know what you two are thinking about, waking me up," he said darkly and half walked, half stumbled into a bathroom. A minute later, a torrent of water could be heard rushing through the pipes and out the sink and shower nozzle; it was soon muffled as the noise protection system kicked in. Evidently this was one aspect of the Potter manor that hadn't quite been perfected but still met its owners' undemanding requirements, something Sirius happened to like about them.

He jumped up and shook a dark lock out of his face, making Remus comment, "You look even more dog-like when you do that, Padfoot old friend." Sirius simply grinned again, rather pleased with himself. Perhaps it was the veritably true fact that becoming an Animagus was a worthy accomplishment; more probably, it was just his natural self-confidence. Stretching his long arms upward, he jumped onto the bed and let out a long sigh.

"Any idea what we're doing today?" A flash of movement at the door caught his attention before any more words could come out. It was Prongsy adorned in his entire Muggle wardrobe consisting of loose black pants, a bright red shirt, and horribly clashing green socks. His hair was even more rumpled since it was wet, and the look on his face spelled "You are going to pay," but in a very amused way. Even more amusing were the glasses, hung on one ear and falling off the other.

James began trotting down the stairs, shouting, "As a matter of fact, we're going to eat breakfast" on his way. It left Sirius and Lupin staring at each other for a moment, but the silence was broken as Sirius got up and casually said, "Now why didn't I think of that? I'm starving." He followed quickly, careful not to trip over the various objects strewn on the floor. 

Standing up tiredly, Remus made his way to the door and muttered, "Like always," rolling his eyes to the sky. His footsteps echoed through the empty halls elegantly decorated with curious and rare magical artifacts but he was oblivious to his surroundings, concentrating instead on navigating the maze of rooms and finding the breakfast. It wasn't half as bad as Hogwarts though, he mused, or maybe not. They must have already found all the secrets in it by last year, yet there was an element of mystery lurking behind the stone walls. But Remus forgot all his thoughts upon reaching the spacious kitchen in the southeastern corner of the building.

It was a large, airy room with double windows that let in sheets of light that sparkled on the meticulously clean glass. A cuckoo clock rested above the stove, chirping whenever something was finished heating. To the side a stack of plates was scrubbing itself in the sink-the entire family, so it seemed, was more gifted with wand work than house cleaning. The Potters and Sirius were already there and had started on a plate of blueberry pancakes, pausing only to mumble hello that sounded more like "hewow" with their mouths stuffed full of food. Mrs. Potter, a slightly plump, wide-eyed woman, stuck her head out, smiled cheerfully and said in a breezy voice, "Good morning Remus, as you can see, breakfast's on the table, ask me if you need anything." 

Next, a tall man with rumpled black hair, who he recognized as Mr. Potter, nodded at him from above a copy of the Daily Prophet, then resumed reading the paper. An annoyed frown crossed his face; Remus soon saw why by reading the front cover: **_Ministry Denies all Employee Ties to He-who-must-not-be-named_**. "The bungled Ministry," he said quietly after folding the paper back up. "They're too proud of what they represent to admit to the truth. And what do they have to be proud about?" Shaking his head slowly in unbridled disgust, Mr. Potter carefully shoved the newspaper to the side of table and took a sip of coffee, refusing to so much as grace it with a sideways glance.

James smiled crookedly as if to say that he was perfectly right, but Sirius merely shrugged and shifted his chair over a few inches. The last boy picked up half a stack of pancakes and dropped them onto his own plate, shooting a mildly puzzled look at James. He quickly replied, "Mum makes wonderful Muggle food, y'know." It was enough to make Remus take a bite, then another soon afterward. A reciprocating grin appeared on his face, silently agreeing. His hand moved to the orange juice just as three identical owls flew in through the window, dropped their letters, and left as quietly as they came. 

The first to grab one was Sirius, and as soon as he said, "It's from Hogwarts," there was a slightly chaotic scramble for the start-of-term notes resting among the other letters, during which James managed to knock over a glass of orange juice and a chair fell over but in the process of righting itself, sent Lupin sprawling on the floor. Mrs. Potter shook her head in mock dismay but let slip a little smile; Mr. Potter had somehow disappeared into another room upon spotting the initial signs of an upcoming disaster. But after a few moments, everyone had opened their respective letters and settled back in the now-upright chairs to read them.

Inside was the usual notice calling them back to school and the list of spell books. But in James's, he found a second smaller envelope enclosing a shiny golden badge inscribed with the words "Head Boy". There was also a note reading:

_Dear Mr. Potter,_

We are pleased to appoint you a Head Boy at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As a leader of the school, you will be expected to fulfill responsibilities in addition to those regularly asked from students. You will be contacted regarding that and anything otherwise asked of you. On the first day of term, there is a compartment in the Hogwarts Express that you will report to and inform the Prefects of their duties.

Enclosed is your badge, and do enjoy the remainder of your summer.

Yours sincerely,

Minerva McGonagall

Deputy Headmistress

"Amazing," said James in a shocked whisper as he took the badge out and held it up to the bright sunlight shooting in through the window. "Who would have thought…"

"What?" Sirius glanced up from his own letter briefly and looked down again but immediately jerked his head up again at the spark glinting off polished metal. "Oh no, this isn't what I think it is, is it?" He groaned in exaggerated resignation to the horrible truth. "Tell me, Moony, you wouldn't happen to have gotten a certain badge with your letter, would you?" 

"Nope, not a chance," answered Remus amicably, tilting his head to the side in order to get a better look at the Head Boy badge being waved above it. "Prongsy here's gotten one though…ah well, I'm still a Prefect." He shrugged nonchalantly, hiding the eagerness to watch their reactions by shoving his head into the list of books. Although not at all interesting, it was the most convenient paper to read at the table.

A wide grin slowly spread across James's face. "Unbelievable…I thought Moony would've gotten it, he's the Gryffindor Prefect and all. Don't have a bloody clue why they picked me, unless it's for my outstanding Transfiguration, Quidditch, and-" He was interrupted by a chorus of voices vying for attention while his own words were quickly drowned out.

"Oh Merlin's beard, Head Boy? That's wonderful!" exclaimed Mrs. Potter, reaching over to give him a flour-dusted hug.

"Well done, James." Mr. Potter was at a loss for words, just overhearing the others, but he was never the verbose type, as everyone recalled from previous visits.

Sirius, however, had quite a different opinion. "And what else, your big head? No offense and all, but Remus deserved it more. He was the one who, er, stayed out of Filch's office more often?"

"Thanks a lot! That's why you weren't picked, I suppose?"

"Actually," Remus piped up, "he earned it, it was fair, no one bribed McGonagall, all right?" There was a finality in his tone that made everyone shut their mouths, but he did hear Padfoot whisper a hurried congratulations across the table. But now an uncomfortable silence hung over the group, staunching any attempts at conversation. Shifting in his seat stiffly, he finally asked timidly, "Are we going to Diagon Alley today?" 

The Potters nodded, and Mrs. Potter smiled in her usual reassuring way. "Of course we are, how about now?" She flicked her gaze around the table and observed identical looks of agreement. "That's right then, everyone ready?" From a shelf she pulled out a glass jar filled with a metallic green powder and passed it around, waiting for the boys to take a pinch. Changing her mind abruptly, she grabbed the jar and sprinkled some into her own hand, which she tossed into the fireplace. An ordinary fire shot up, then died down, replaced by apple green flames. "Well? Hurry up!"

"Mum, can't we Apparate there?" James was quite determined to offer his own suggestion. "I mean, we've all passed exams, and well, can't we?" He shot a pleading look at her and at Sirius and Lupin in turn.

She considered it for a second before replying. "No, no and absolutely not. It's too far and you're going to get Splinched. Besides, even if you did make it, you'd probably land on top of someone. So it's no." 

The elder Potter sauntered over to his wife and remarked, "Really, I don't see why not, they're all bright young fellows, and they've got to learn someday. So why not today? We'll watch them" There was a roguish sparkle in his brown eyes that had been mysteriously absent just a few minutes ago, as if he had just remembered what it had been like to Apparate to a some place, not just downstairs.

Mrs. Potter glared at him for a second but conceded. "Oh fine, you can all go," snapped the woman in an annoyed voice, but out of the corner of her eye she shot a hint of approval. "Think of it as a becoming-Head-Boy present then."

The boys smiled easily and hastily shoved the letters into their pockets. "Me first then," said James, waving cheerfully and disappearing with a loud "POP!" Fortunately there were no body parts left behind, at least none visible to the naked eye…

AN: So how was it? Flames are accepted, reviews are welcomed, and criticism is most definitely encouraged. Even after the fifth book I'm still such a James and Sirius fan, partly because certain people think I have the arrogant streak. *cough* You know who you are… Anyways, please review; also if you have time, please R&R my one-shot Snape fanfic. I'm not really a Snape fan, but it was an interesting exercise in writing, to say the least, and I was feeling rather harsh at the time. Ok, I'm done with my rambling now, so have a nice day!


	2. Chapter Two: Wandering Through the Crowd

Chapter Two: Wandering Through the Crowd

A sharp crack preceded the appearance of James Potter in the middle of a cluster of chattering witches, and before he could even make an attempt to turn around, he found himself being swept along farther and farther down the street. Out of one eye he saw Sirius land on top of a frazzled little wizard, then help him up with a goofy smile and somehow push his way through the crowd.

"'Lo, Jamesie, whereto today?"

James shrugged as if to say, "Wherever you and Remus want," but his clear hazel eyes were roving amongst the groups of students, pausing just long enough to scan for a special someone. A very special someone with wavy auburn hair, emerald green eyes, and a temper to match the red highlights. It was a special girl indeed who could capture the heart of James Potter for more than a week, and one Lily Evans seemed to be the perfect one. Or at least she would be if she stayed long enough to say anything other than a retort along the lines of "You're the slimiest git Gryffindor has ever known; actually, make that the whole school." 

Noting his obvious distraction, Remus, who had Apparated without causing injury to any of the old ladies trotting down the cobbled road, and Sirius let identical smirks alight on their faces. "So Prongsie, having daydreams?"

"About someone?"

"With a surname of Evans?"

"Huh?" James shook his head in confusion before realizing the thread of their conversation, at which time the look of bewilderment turned into one of anger, than embarrassment. "You know I don't have daydreams about Evans, just as well as you know she hates me."

There was an irritatingly smug look on Sirius's face that read along the lines of "Exactly, and we know you like her." But for once he elected to firmly clamp his mouth shut and instead dragged the two others into a store filled with bookshelves stocked with the sort of volumes that were found only in the Restricted Section. "Right then," he sighed with an exaggerated air of disappointment, "might as well as get all this junk first. Everyone's taking NEWT Transfiguration, Charms, Defense, and Potions, I suppose?" The last subject was met with a resounding chorus of reluctant agreement; evidently, Potions was a less than appreciated course, even when it was absolutely necessary.

At that moment, Peter stumbled into the shop, looking around nervously with weak blue eyes. Upon spotting the three Marauders, he hurried over but didn't lift his head to meet their questioning gazes. "Master, er, f-father wouldn't l-let me come until I finished a few chores," he sputtered, barely forming coherent words. He scooted over to a pile of books on the history of wands before they had a chance to make any comments and pretended to be utterly immersed in the thick volume.

Sirius merely exchanged a glance with Lupin, but James glared at them both, trying to see what they found so odd about that; not everyone had servants, they should know. "Yes, whatever. Er, I'm also taking Runes, don't know what for exactly, same as last year." After a few moments of awkward silence, they strode over to the counter, left the gold behind, and walked out talking like the same old friends once more, puzzles and troubles quickly forgotten. 

For the next hour they simply walked down the street, stopping at every shop that caught the eye, occasionally poking fun at miscellaneous beings pushing through Diagon Alley, much to the apparent chagrin of other less unusual magical folk. Soon they arrived at the Quidditch shop, and it was obvious there was a special sale that day. A sign said in flashing colors that "The New Nimbus 1500 is being sold today at a discount price of 75 galleons! Buy yours today, don't want to be left behind, do we?" Of course Sirius and James bulldozed their way to the counter and dumped a bagful of gold out, receiving brand new broomsticks in exchange, while Remus stood patiently near the entrance, wondering not for the first time what was so fascinating about Quidditch. Sure, it was the most popular wizarding sport, and Padfoot and Prongs were nearly pros, and-the list of reasons could go on and on, he thought with a wry smile.

There was little more on the school shopping list, so the four Marauders chose to take a trip to their favorite store to do some miscellaneous shopping. Entering _Wonko's Pranks, _they flashed grins at the plump, balding owner, who, by now, knew them by name and by business. He stepped out from behind the counter and gave them a jolly wave. "So boys, will it be the usual today? Or is there something special you'd like-we just got new inventory today."

"Let's er, see what you've got." James looked back at his companions quickly before taking long steps to the side where new or bizarre items were always displayed. "Say, Padfoot, how about…multiplying balloons?" Deciding for himself, he added, "Never mind, waste of good gold. Well, anything you three want in particular?"

At the last sentence, Peter became a nervously quivering ball, quipping that he felt it was time to leave, being late and all, and perhaps ice cream would be nice? Sirius shot him a glare of slight annoyance but agreed and reluctantly left the shop. They turned out the door and walked a small distance to Fortescue's, where they spotted a few other Hogwarts students, but no Gryffindors. There were a few Ravenclaws and Slytherins sitting outside; Severus Snape, however, seemed to shun even the company of his own house. James rolled his eyes and ushered the others into the cool ice cream parlor.

The waitress smiled at them cheerfully, waving a gloved hand at the vast selection of flavors on the menu, then bustled to the back to prepare a banana split. The four pored over the menu for a few moments, but there really was no need as they probably had previously memorized all the many selections. "Right then," said James, the first to speak. "I'll have-"

"Four vanilla cones with hot fudge," Sirius cut in abruptly. "And here's the gold." He dropped a few Sickles into the girl's waiting hand.

"How would you have known what I wanted?" asked Remus, running a hand through his disheveled light brown hair. "I mean, it's called ordering something, and generally when normal people order, they choose things for themselves."

The black-haired boy shrugged casually and replied, "Well it was easy, considering we order basically the same thing every time. Except for that once you dared me to try the spinach." Ignoring Moony's argument, he still let slip a small frown, but the eyes, the eyes showed the real feelings of the charismatic Sirius Black. And right then, he looked rather pleased to have gotten along so well with a werewolf, not the least to say, after the dreadful years before school.

In silence they licked at the ice cream outside, each contemplating his last year at Hogwarts. Together they had sworn to make it an unforgettable ten months; together they would remain once out of the great stone castle. But whether or not anyone admitted it, the little group was slowly drifting apart. James and Sirius were too caught up in infatuations, going through two or more girls each week, while Remus was falling into a small rut in dealing with his monthly status of vicious beast. And Peter, he was somehow spending less time with them, and although barely noticeable, he was acting more suspicious by the day. Now, however, wasn't the time to consider such otherworldly thoughts, so instead, they focused on keeping hands free of drops of vanilla ice cream.

Finally James rose from a patio chair and stretched his arms up, preparing to leave for the house again. Padfoot and Moony followed his examples, pushing in the chairs and waving farewell to Wormtail almost apologetically. They would be seeing him again in two days though, so there was no real need for elaborate parting words. Then with three pops, they disappeared, leaving Peter, a squat silhouette in the setting sun, standing near the ice cream store. He was deathly quiet and oddly enough, all alone.

AN: First of all, I'd like to thank the people who reviewed; it does mean a lot to me although begging for reviews is not fun at all XP

Second, I apologize for the crappiness and boringness/pointlessness of this chapter, as I had no creative energies to spare for a mere walk down Diagon Alley. The next one should be at least a bit more interesting. It's going to have Lily and perhaps a few of her friends in it…

Third, if you have time, please review any of my other stories, I'd greatly appreciate if someone could tell me if there is any interest at all. Flames are accepted for all but Orchestra Teleporter, praise is welcomed, and criticism is being asked for :-) 

Fourth, I'm a freshman in a high school with a strong emphasis on math, science, and engineering, and with its outstanding reputation (#1 SAT scores in the state) comes piles of homework and projects. I'm sorry if I don't update as much as a lot of other Fanfiction.net authors, but I've got to keep my wonderful, brilliant reputation as well. Yes I know I sound arrogant, and I can't help it, so don't even think about it :-P 


	3. Chapter Three: An Expected Surprise

First of all, to Freaky Angel: I love you so much for reviewing! *hugs* 

Chapter Three: An Expected Surprise

The next day in the Potters' house passed quickly, and soon it was time to board the Hogwarts Express for the second to last time, not counting holidays, of course. The Marauders minus Pettigrew were sprawled on the floor of James's room packing their trunks in silence, or at least until Sirius leaped up from the floor with a curse, clutching his foot in apparent pain.

"Damn it," he muttered, finally setting his foot down much to the amusement of the two others. "You know, if they didn't make these trunk lids so heavy—"

"And why was your foot inside the trunk anyway?" asked Remus, tilting his head as to get a better view of the boy's irritated face. Sirius shrugged wordlessly and returned to the laborious task of jamming more belongings than had a right to be stuffed inside a single traveling trunk. With a sigh he finally resorted to sitting on the lid and conjuring ropes to tie the whole mess together.

"Right then," grinned James, "I suppose we better be doing something this oh-very-last-day-before-term-starts?" He gestured out the window carelessly before continuing. "I mean, there's got to be something we haven't done yet…"

"Like homework?"

"No, say Prongs, could you put these in your own trunk?" Sirius held out a velvet bag filled with an assortment of magical objects. "I can't seem to fit them in mine, and you have plenty of room." Walking, he chanced a look into the trunk and shook his head, flabbergasted by the sight. "So being Head Boy's gotten to you, has it?" he asked. "Why else is your trunk so empty?"

"I, er, forget it," he muttered, cheeks tinted a pale pink through the tan. Just in time, Mrs. Potter poked her head through the open door.

"You should all be in bed now," she practically shouted. "It's eleven o'clock, and I don't know how on Earth you'll—!" A rubber snake had been slithering toward her feet while she was talking, but only then did she notice. With a glower she banished it quickly and pointed out the door. Sensing her displeasure, Sirius and Remus stood up and yawned simultaneously.

"Night Jamesie," they said before walking off to their own rooms.

James shook his head at their retreating backs and answered with a barely audible "G'night." Then all was silent once more; only a crescent moon watched as they rolled onto beds and fell into a deep slumber.

* * * * *

The next morning was an eventful one, being that all three boys woke up late and scarcely had time to get dressed and Apparate to King's Cross Station. Mrs. Potter merely glared at them again but grabbed a scarf, for it was chilly, and followed. Fortunately they were on time, so she gave James a quick kiss on the cheek before returning home, saying there was unfinished business.

James raised a brow at the term "unfinished business" but asked no questions; when one's parents risked their lives almost every day, questions did become unnecessary. "Fine," he muttered, then raising his voice over the crowd, added, "I'll go first then." Pushing a trolley, he ran at the partition between Platform 9 and 10 and sped onto the magical one: Platform 9 ¾.

Right behind him were Remus and Sirius; they too had taken the barrier at a flat run, not because of any difficulties, but just for kicks. The bright red Hogwarts Express shone in the dim light, and they gawked at it as if they were first years again.

Oddly enough, it was James who shook them out of their reverie, or perhaps it was the blast of the whistle that signalized the soon-to-be departure of the train. Dragging his trunk, he walked purposefully toward the steps, and once on the compartment, managed to drag it down the aisle up to the front.

"Sorry Padfoot," he winked conspiratorially, "but Moony and I are needed in the Head's compartment."

Sirius nodded and broke into a wide grin. "Well, I daresay I'll entertain myself till you're free from your, ahem, duties." 

Rolling their eyes, Remus and James made their way through the clusters of students up to the foremost car. Surprisingly enough, they weren't really late after all, as there was no one else there. While Remus sat down near the front and pulled out a handy book, James rummaged through his trunk, searching for the slip of parchment that outlined his responsibilities of the first day.

"Got it!" he exclaimed loudly, much to the mild astonishment of the slowly filling compartment. Seeing the new Prefects, James hid a blush and instead, smiled at them carelessly. 

"Er, is the Head Girl here yet?" asked James with uncertainty in his voice for the first time.

"That would be myself," answered a cool female voice. "And it's—" The girl gasped in genuine shock at the familiar face and tossed back a mane of auburn hair. "Potter…it can't be, Remus, you're Head Boy, aren't you? Please tell me this is a…" She trailed off at the glare and confirming glances and instantly changed her tone to one that meant business. "Well, then, congratulations," continued Lily, though even she couldn't stop from faltering.

"Evans…No surprise to see you here." James flashed her a typical, charm-their-heads-off smile. "I _am _Head Boy, so I suppose we'll be seeing a lot of each other, eh?"

But then another familiar figure stood up, one that was tall and scrawny. "Now just wait a moment," he all but snarled, and the chattering students became deadly quiet. "Get your hands off her, Potter boy." 

Lily surprised everyone by flinging right back, "You wait a moment, Severus. He hasn't touched me yet, and we'll have to get on better than this if we're going to be to any effect at all. If you don't stop this nonsensical fighting, I'll have both of you replaced, hear?" Her green eyes were snapping emerald blazes, a sure sign of a severely annoyed Irish girl. Snape shut his mouth immediately and resorted to firing dagger-glares at the offending Gryffindor.

"Honestly, Evans," muttered James under his breath, "you sounded like old McGonagall there. Just keep it up, and you'll be taking points from your own House next." But he too comprehended that look and bit his lip hard.

"Right then, everyone," continued Lily, a bit shaken by the not unexpected outbursts. "New Prefects…" She waited for eight fifth years to stand before finishing her phrase. "You're on patrol through the train for the first hour, so might as well get going." Patiently she waited for them to stumble out one by one and let out a lungful of air when the last of them trailed after the others through the door.

"And sixth years, you're patrolling for the second half of the ride. Seventh year Prefects and myself and Potter, we're going to be walking the castle tonight. Other than that, there's nothing else we've got to do, oh, and tell the fifth years that they lead the first years to the dorms." She ran out of breath slightly at the end and tried to regain it while James and Remus looked on amusedly.

"Tell me, Lily…"

Lily Evans whirled around and glared at him furiously. "Potter, you do exactly what I and the teachers tell you, and that's all, do you understand? Nothing more, and if you even think about trying…" She paused for the additional dramatic effect. "I'll be forced to hex you." Severus let an odd little smile slide onto his sallow features, one that Lily, unfortunately, did not return.

James simply grinned again and replied, "You, hex me? I think I know more hexes than anyone…except maybe Sni-Severus here. Don't you know all that your family's probably taught you?"

"Leave. My. Family. Out. Of. This." He forced the words out in a ragged voice, but the expression was unmistakable. It spoke of raw, uncontained fury and impulsiveness, so harsh and grating that even James stepped back involuntarily.

For the first time, Lily took up her privileges as Head Girl. "All the Prefects…out. I need to have a little talk with Potter here." Giving her a strange look, nevertheless they complied and filed into the Prefect compartment, leaving them alone. James sat down opposite of the fuming red head and stretched his long legs out in front, speaking wordlessly, "Talk, Lily."

She rounded on him so suddenly that for the second time, he inched backward. "What in hell do you think you're doing? You're about to ruin everything, don't know what Dumbledore was thinking, not that he's ever wrong. Maybe you're smart and everything—" Horrified, she clapped her hand to her mouth. Had she just admitted that Potter, the arrogant pain in the arse, actually possessed an ounce of intelligence?

But he had had to take exams just like the rest of them. Unlike Lily and her friends, however, he somehow studied little and scored big. Every single time he did, it made her Housemates wonder about impishly grinning James Potter. And every single time they went to him for advice, all they returned with was "Sorry, must be the natural talent."

"…yup, you heard it," continued James, sounding not the least annoyed now. Lily gaped at him; surely she had not been so self-absorbed as to completely block out his voice, even for a few words? He caught her wide-eyed gaze and ran a hand through his hair in a single, practiced movement. "But really, what else do we have to do?"

"Your hair is messed-up enough already," said the seventeen-year-old girl in a cold, atypically Slytherin voice. "And the first thing I have to do is get your face out of my head. Good bye." Just like that, she stomped out of the compartment mumbling something like, "Sveta would have a fit." And James could only stare at her retreating back and heave a deep sigh.

AN: As everyone should be able to see, this is pretty canon, no slash or strange pairings; slash because I find it to be beneath my consideration, strange pairings because they're well, strange (Sorry to all the slash fans!) Also I have the plot planned out but like always, am open to suggestions. Review if you so desire ^.^


	4. Chapter Four: Coming Back

Chapter Four: Coming Back

Lily shook her shoulder-length auburn hair out of her face brusquely, a frustrated growl escaping pressed lips as she stormed down the length of the Hogwarts Express. That Potter was aggravating so much of the time; no, make that all of the time. What exactly had she done to be designated as the object of his eternal and unrelenting pursuit, she wondered, not in a delighted way like the multitude of other girls, either. He could have easily had his share of the 6th and 7th year, which he and Sirius probably did, but was that enough?

No, of course not. Apparently she was still on the "Wanted" list.

Finally having reached the compartment holding her Gryffindor dorm mates, she plopped herself down between two girls who were looking on curiously. "Head's meeting's over then, I see?" commented the brunette on her door side, fingering her golden Prefect's badge while speaking.

"Thank the lady it is. Don't know if I could have lived—or if anyone else could have lived if it lasted any longer," muttered Lily darkly. Her eyes yet showed traces of crackling emerald flames, and it was a sign that one Head Girl was nearly at exploding point. She sighed, leaning back and staring out at the blurs of colors flashing by. 

Life was so unpredictable at times, like the people, whether Muggles or magical, they all held their share at least of spontaneity. Dumbledore must have been having one of those indescribable, eccentric moments when he was selecting Prefects and Heads. Remus Lupin was the natural, being responsible, polite, and just about everything else. Even Snape was a possibility; he wasn't half stupid, sarcastic and callous, perhaps, but he was easy enough to understand. But as Head Girl, the duty of keeping peace seemed to have fallen to her, and it was not even one that Lily looked forward to.

A pale, thin hand reached across the foot space in the center of the carriage and shoved a bag of Chocolate Frogs into her lap. "Thanks, Sveta," Lily murmured absently, her voice barely carrying across the car to her blond friend since the racket outside was drawing closer. She pulled out a pack, card first, and blinked several times at the face. 

It was Dumbledore, auburn hair beginning to gray, a twinkle in his blue eyes as he winked at her from behind half-moon spectacles. Letting out a soft gasp of delight, she flipped it over, almost as if expecting a special flashing design on the back that screamed, "The Great Albus Dumbledore!" But there was nothing except the usual swirls of purple and black in the form of a vortex ending at the farthest point of space.

"You got Dumbledore? Should've just asked, I've got two or three of him." Svetlana Raminov rolled icy blue eyes skyward, friendly contempt lacing every word. "Want the chocolate by any chance? I'll take it if you don't want it…"

"It's a wonder you're so thin, Sveta, you pig," grinned Alice. Gratefully Lily popped the quivering frog into her mouth, flicking a glance out the window at the same time.

"Shoot…I've got to go!" She grabbed her wand and ran out the door, dumping the entire bag of candy on the ground. Right behind her was Mattie, long brown braid bouncing on her back. The Prefects were needed early too, as one of their duties was to escort the younger students up the trail to the front door of the castle.

Drifting after them was a soft, high-pitched voice cast in a half-hearted attempt at imitation. "Lily, you pig…"

* * * * *

A thousand candles bobbed in salute to the lanky headmaster as he rose to his feet, a good foot taller than the other teachers also standing on the elevated dais. Albus Dumbledore, robed in a starry, midnight blue garment, swept his eyes over the four tables for a moment that seemed to last for an eternity, each student feeling that the headmaster looked upon him alone for an instant. Then a more solemn expression spread over his creased face, and he nodded in quiet acknowledgement.

"Students, teachers, I welcome you back to Hogwarts after a long and hopefully, restful summer. I hope I find you as well as myself, for the months of holiday have undoubtedly been most restful…" 

Resonating and powerful, Dumbledore's voice permeated every corner of the Great Hall, even every reluctant student's ear. But Albus Dumbledore was not a fool and thus knew and accepted what prior Headmasters had failed to. He understood that more often than not, some would ignore his words, remain silent, perhaps, but blow his words away. He understood why some felt words to be meaningless.

Meaningless and useless.

As he skimmed the sea of faces once more, his heart felt a creaking strain at the hidden, mutinous expressions, the sneers of arrogance, the glares of raw hatred. He was but an old man now, experiencing too well the limitations of age. And it hurt something deep inside, questioned whether he, or anyone in all of Britain or the world, could succeed. For failure led to a life far worse than the most terrible death.

"On a heavier note, the problems facing the wizarding community must be addressed. No longer are they distant, and no longer are we protected. As you already know, I'm sure, Voldemort, yes, Voldemort, is rapidly growing powerful. He is dangerous, I will not try to conceal that or pretend that he is not, but he is not invincible. We must unite, all Houses join together to form the stronghold of Hogwarts, if we are to have even a slim chance of winning…"

He ignored the gasps and hisses of awe rising throughout the room and continued giving the speech as if it were an afternoon tea conversation. The students of today…saviors of tomorrow…leaders of the not-so-distant future. Reality was slowly dawning upon them, and the sooner they learned to deal with it, the more powerful they could learn to become. But all the same, it hurt to force them into the world of adults. Children, though Dumbledore was sure some of them had never been children, were pure and brilliant, never acting the jaded fools.

"In conclusion, I have but four words to say: Let the feast…begin!" Spreading his hands out simply, he smiled down at his charges and sat down to a mixture of hearty applause and various chewing noises. Informing the students hadn't been so terrible after all, he thought, and picked up a fork and knife and began carving up the pork chops.

* * * * *

James grinned at the three Marauders over a heaping plate of mashed potatoes and sweet and sour chicken. "That was some start-of-term speech old Dumbledore gave," he said, not caring who overheard him. "I mean, Voldemort. How many wizards alive dare to say his name? And how many are alive for too long afterward?"

"That's right." Remus rolled his eyes and pointed at his friend's nose. "I'm sure we appreciate that opinion, but you," he nodded crisply, "have sauce all around your mouth." He watched calmly as James grabbed a napkin and pulled it across his face roughly, brown eyes showing barely the trace of a smile. Yes, this was most definitely Hogwarts again.

The Gryffindor table eventually quieted to a constant hum of chatter, leaving James Potter to his food and his thoughts. Of food there was plenty of, since the table's entire wooden surface was covered in white china plates holding dishes from celery and carrots to sliced ham to trifle tart. But he was strangely quiet today, dreamy hazel eyes focused on Dumbledore's crooked hat. It wasn't every day that one found "the Potter boy" ignoring Lily Evans, after all.

All too soon the feast was coming to an end, and then the headmaster rose again in his starry blue robes. "Thank you for a most delicious start-of-term feast, and we can only hope that future ones will even surpass it. Prefects, lead your Houses to the dormitories at this time. I would like to speak to the Head Boy and Head Girl, James Potter and Lily Evans, before they leave as well. That is all, and Hogwarts, good night." With that, he and the other teachers filed down the side steps of the dais and stood in a long line before the hall, eyeing the passing students with critical eyes.

"Prongsie! That's you," Sirius nudged the boy sharply in the stomach, and he snapped his head back, mouth open in a round "O".

"Er, yes." He stood up and surveyed the rapidly clearing Gryffindor table for a brief moment, noting that Lily had already began walking up to the professors. "Sorry to be so abrupt, but I must speak with each and every one of you ladies later." With that, James shot them a trademark smile and strode purposefully up the crowded aisle. However, he was walking against the current, so to speak, and barely walked forward a few paces before being swept back. Shaking his head, James leaped onto the bench and began making his way forward once more.

"Right then…g'night. Classes start t-t-morrow." A yawn escaped Sirius's mouth, but those black eyes were sparkling with malice. For Severus Snape, stormy and alone, sniveling yet headstrong, had just stalked by…

AN: Part I liked-Dumbledore's speech

       Part I thought was terrible-the rest of the chapter

Thanks to everyone who reviewed, I love you all *bows* And I know THE ULTIMATUM was a bit unfair, but I did want some more reviews so…I'll be continuing this, don't worry.

And thanks to werbinich and gymgirl for telling me what "MWPP" meant.


	5. Chapter Five: Tripping Up

Chapter Five: Tripping Up

As the Great Hall emptied, two students could be seen purposefully pushing aside the remnants of the crowds and moving steadily toward the raised dais. Lily Evans and James Potter were heading for the same destination, and for once, neither wore a disgruntled expression or a hard glare of fury.

"Ah, there you two are," Albus Dumbledore called out through the chattering voices. "I was beginning to think that…well, anyway, welcome back, this year with the added responsibilities of Head Boy and Girl."

"Is that all?" Lily frowned, wondering if that was all that the Headmaster had to say.

"No, no, of course not," he chuckled. "You see, we're sorely in need of a Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, as the previous one seems to have left in quite a hurry to escape to safety. So the other professors and myself were wondering—"

James cut in sharply, "He was a fool then, Professor Dumbledore."

Dumbledore waved aside his comment and continued. "As I was saying, we were wondering if you would accept an additional set of obligations. Of course, nothing will be held against either of you if you refuse, but for the good of the school I thought that—"

"Oh, let him continue," snapped Lily. Exactly three hours of the school year had passed so far, and she was already beginning to feel the same irritation toward hopeless Potter as before. Only this time, it had very little to do with herself.

"Thank you, Miss Evans. Anyway, I thought that a few of the older students might be willing to help instruct a few classes? If the first through fourth years are taken care of, I do believe that I would have enough time to work with the fifth through seventh year students. And you'll be paired, so there'll be fewer tasks for each person involved." Dumbledore clasped his hand together and lifted his white brows. "Any opinions, now that I've finished?" he asked.

For once, James creased his forehead in thought before nodding slowly and deliberately. "Yes, it seems like the only way, Professor, unless you could call up another teacher on such short notice." Then he brightened and flashed a smile. "And I've never had the Headmaster teach a class, so it'll be quite an experience."

"Well then, Mr. Potter, now my suspicions that you have any sense at all have been confirmed. Miss Evans?"

She bit her lip gently and sighed. "Yes, I will. By the way, what are the pairs?" A sudden horrifying thought popped to the surface of her mind, and if it were true, then she would most likely drop out. No, no, and no. It wouldn't be possible…would it?

"That," he smiled kindly, "would be something you will find out soon enough. And as for the others, they have already been selected. Good night, then, and do enjoy yourselves walking the halls."

Meanwhile, Sirius and the other two Gryffindors had managed to slip off into a small side corridor away from the mass of students moving slowly up the stairs. It was cold and held a slightly musty odor, and would have been of no importance to them except for one crucial fact. This particular sorry excuse for a decent hall happened to lead to the Slytherin dormitories.

"Good, we're early," he whispered and pulled out his wand. "Moony, get the support charm ready. On the count of three—one, two three!"

No sparks or beams of light appeared, but any onlookers would have felt the peculiar sensation of wings gently brushing past them. Fortunately, there were no other students, and their spell seemed to have worked. Exchanging grins, they whisked around the corner to find James casually leaning against the wall.

"All set," smiled Remus. "Went without a hitch, actually, but pity it isn't as large-scale as we could have made it. So how was the talk with Dumbledore?"

"Fine, fine," James replied absently. "So now we wait…"

They nodded.

Sirius and Remus agreed to walk back and pretend to be passing by, though they were walking much more slowly than usual. As the minutes ticked by, they found themselves wondering if anyone would come…but there was no avoiding them, not tonight.

"For her to come by?"

But they never heard the rest.

One Severus Snape strolled through the hall, his chest puffed up with the semblance of pride and his expression sour for the sake of the other Slytherins. Even on the first night back, he had already been assigned the duty of patrolling the Slytherin hallways, and by Lily Evans herself. But it had been no real surprise; she always seemed to be torn between hatred and pity for the Slytherin git, and Evans was always fair as well.

He managed to anticipate the crowd of Slytherins heading down to the dungeons and station himself at the corridor where they would be soon turning in. As usual, part of his mind was focused on finding the Gryffindorks…surely they would have shown themselves by now? But the only sound was the sound of voices drifting away, and the only discernable movement was that of booted feet. What luck.

Suddenly a series of sparks flew up farther down the hallway, accompanied by a deafening "BOOM". Severus snapped awake and glanced around hastily but saw no one. He whipped out his wand and began running towards where the obviously rule-breaking wandwork had occurred. Whoever that fool had been was going to pay, unless, of course, it was a fellow snake.

Spinning around, he caught a flash of movement to the right, followed by a rather chubby figure waddling much more slowly than the other two. "What the hell do you think you're doing?" he snarled softly and took off after them. "Get out of—"

But Severus never did finish his sentence, for his feet were handily intercepted by an invisible wall that spanned the corridor. Too surprised to cry out, his head, then scrawny body, were propelled by the force of his feet flying out from underneath him, and he landed with a loud "thump" in the middle of the main hall. A crowd of students formed a ring around him, and when he rose, James Potter was looking down skeptically.

"You won't hear the end of _this_." Severus Snape was a true Slytherin at heart, and the new humiliation was too much. He scooped up his wand and held it up to James's chest. "Don't move, or the words just might slip…and that might just be the end."

James stood and stared at his furiously pale face. "What exactly are you talking about?" Pushing apart the circle of students with a commanding look, he strode over to where Snape had fallen on his large nose. "There's nothing here," he muttered, then raised his voice. "You must have just tripped."

"Don't lie like that, Potter!" Clicking heels preceded the appearance of Lily Evans, and the expression on her face was one of undiluted fury. "Go on, apologize to him. It's only been the first day back. Or," she drew a deep breath, "I'll never speak to you again. And that's absolutely final." Redheads were a force to be reckoned with, and she would show them that, preferably right then and there. And Potter was getting to be too much…trying to proclaim his innocence to her face indeed.

Snape, however, had shoved his way through the clusters and was now outside the circle. "I don't need your help, Evans. Now go on and be a good little girl." His voice was a low growl that only Lily could hear, but James saw his mouth twist in dry sarcasm. Quick mental reflexes developed through six years of inter-House feuds understood.

"Evans, I don't see how he's much better," he tried to sooth her through his own anger. "And if it makes you feel better…then I'm sorry for anything I may have done. That fix anything?"

"No," she declined vehemently, "it doesn't. Just, just, go away, will you? And you're taking the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff side tonight, since you can't be trusted with Gryffindor or Slytherin."

Sirius and Remus drew their friend away to avoid any further conflict. "We know he can't," Sirius called as he strolled away nonchalantly. "And we're most sorry for any inconvenience caused, Snivellus."

Lily sighed deeply and pushed a stray auburn curl behind her ear, but she thought only of Snape and Potter. If they would both grow up…then 99 of all her problems would be solved in that one moment. But as much as she wished, inside, she knew that said situation was nearly impossible to achieve. The old wizarding families, of which all Potter's friends and all Slytherins were members of, held certain prejudices that lasted through centuries. Teachers, or herself, or even Dumbledore, could not truly influence them, for old traditions and beliefs refused to die.

Slytherins and Gryffindors were doomed to be enemies.


	6. Chapter Six: From Students to Professors

Chapter Six: From Students to Professors

Standing by the entrance to the Great Hall, Albus Dumbledore looked the picture of content, though in truth, he was quite possibly one of the most strained wizards in the world. His worries covered a wide range of subjects and causes, spanning from the international battle between the Ministry and the Death Eaters to the type of Muggle candy his Professors would accept for a welcome back present. He stroked his chin with a long finger, pondering just that. Lemon drops or butterscotch? Sweet or sour? He did need to get to know a few new faculty members better.

But his thoughts were interrupted by small groups of chattering students strolling to their House tables, all eager to return to classes. Dumbledore smiled as they walked by, cheerfully noting the expressions of mild surprise on their faces. Doubtless they were unused to seeing their Headmaster waiting for them to walk in, but a Headmaster ought to be Head of the school, not simply waiting up on the dais with the teachers. They had a lot to learn, he chuckled silently, but they would never find out everything about him. Not even Aberforth had managed that yet.

Face after face, he recognized them all by name, House, and year like he had made a point to when he first assumed the position of Headmaster. Behind the half-moon glasses twinkled clear blue eyes, and the way in which they caught the light reminded everyone that age had not yet taken its toll on Albus Dumbledore. Rather, it had made him wiser, or so he would like to think, but most likely what the others thought was due to his rejuvenation by memory loss.

Long purple robes swirled about his feet as he slowly walked up to the front of the Great Hall after the majority of the students had taken their seats. Dumbledore inclined his head politely to his fellow teachers before sinking into the central chair. Before taking a sip of the liquid put before him, he glanced at Minerva McGonagall with a questioning frown. 

The drink was lemonade, and he was an unusual wizard indeed.

* * * * *

"Indivia! Stop that!" Remus scolded the feisty spotted owl, a beakful of ash-gray feathers stubbornly clamped in her mouth. She shook her head comically before spitting them out onto a cloth napkin, a moist gray bundle similar to those found in the Owlery. Wrinkling his nose, the seventh year continued, "Honestly, you don't have to attack every owl that borrows your job." 

Unfolding his schedule with one hand and stroking Indivia with the other, James grinned at the hastily departing school owl, which also seemed to be missing a tuft of feathers from its back. "She likes her position as the one and only, don't you, Indivia?" The owl nipped his preening finger affectionately and stole a chunk of toast out of his plate. So much for "well-mannered" to be added to the list of compliments.

"I wish my owl were like that though," said Sirius, "but like everything else its lineage's been traced back a thousand years. Which makes it just as stuffy as the rest." He rolled his eyes but quickly brightened when a slip of paper floated down from the air. "Not bad, not bad at all," he muttered to himself, staring down at the timetable, and then looked up at his friends. "Transfiguration first, then—"

"Wait a moment," James frowned. "There's a 'See attached note' written on mine, when I'm supposed to have a free period."

Remus bent over and picked up a tiny roll of parchment that had fallen onto the ground during the owl spat. "This it?"

He unfurled the piece of crisp parchment and skimmed it quickly, finishing with a comprehending shrug. "Did you get it too?"

 "I'm paired with Mattie for the second years."

"Perfectly good, doing the third years with Bella," said Remus.

They turned to look at Peter Pettigrew, and James finally spoke. "So, did you get one of these teaching things?" he asked, waving the roll in the air.

"N-no," Peter stuttered, "b-but it's for Defense anyway, and I—I don't think I'm m-much good at that."

A sigh escaped from Remus's normally cheerful mouth as he contemplated once more how intolerably blunt his friends could be. Clapping a hand on Wormtail's shoulder, he said reasonably, "Well, it's just extra work anyways. Be happy that you didn't, all right?"

Peter's small plump frame was bobbing up and down anxiously though he did not utter a sound except a soft, rat-like sniff. His blanched blue eyes were opened wide as if he wondered why anyone in their right mind would want to be a part of the new project.

"Say, who did you get, Prongsie?" Sirius asked, the corners of his lips twitching slightly in amusement of Pettigrew's new act. But for Moony's sake he kept quiet. Moony had been designated official peacemaker ages ago, and somehow, he was the only one truly suited to the role.

However Sirius had no need to ask the question, for a frustrated growl sounded a few spaces down the long Gryffindor table. More than one student found himself entertained by this new outburst from a girl like none other, a girl that they wanted, a girl that would never take them.

"WHY did Dumbledore put me with _Potter_?" Lily balled her tiny hands up into hard fists, an intense angry light sparking in her eyes. She gathered up her papers, shoved them in her shoulder bag, and stormed out of the Great Hall, much to the curiosity of all the other students at all four tables.

Sveta shrugged and popped the last piece of toast into her mouth. "Honestly, she didn't have to run out screaming. I'm the one who got Snape, after all."

* * * * *

At precisely 9:59, Albus Dumbledore touched a wizened finger to the tiny scratch on his door and eased it open. Recognizing Charms were all too useful, he noted with a smile, although they could never be 100% reliable and thus could not be used to prevent students from entering Hogsmeade on odd weeknights. Still, under the right conditions, a well-placed Charm or two served quite a few purposes, the least of which involved allowing a white-haired old wizard to exit his office without turning a single doorknob.

"Ah, my dear students, all on time, I see?" He clapped his hands together, mentally checking off each upturned face. "Except for Miss Evans…who has now arrived."

In a flurry of robes, Lily rushed down the hall and skidded to a stop right underneath the Headmaster's crooked nose. "Sorry, Professor Dumbledore," she gasped, "I lost track of the time, and—"

He cut off her explanations with a wave. "That can come later, Miss Evans, but your classmates are most undoubtedly waiting for the next part of their explanations." Turning on his heel, Dumbledore slid his hand along the same groove on the opposite side of the door and ushered them into the office.

"Take a seat now, everyone around the table. The reason I call this group of students together is simply because you are the most talented rank of the seventh years, and I offer you a simple proposition. As you may already know, no one has ventured to accept the Defense Against the Dark Arts position…and in this dimming age, the subject will be of most vital importance. If someone could teach the first through fourth years, then perhaps I would be able to find time for the higher grades." He looked from one young face to another and raised his brows, knowing quite well that they would accept. Though he did not enjoy using his powers to force the students into an uncomfortable situation, sometimes it simply could not be helped.

Severus glowered at the group, the majority of which was constituted of Gryffindors. "Why, Headmaster," he asked simply, "can you not find someone else? I'm quite sure that some of us are not _capable_," at this, his steady gaze flickered towards James Potter, "of handling a group of younger students."

"And Mr. Black?" said Dumbledore, noting the restless gleam of his dark eyes.

"Personally, I feel that all but one of the group is _perfectly_ able to do this." His joking tone had become serious; the normal spontaneity had been replaced with thought.

"Well, I cannot force anyone, as I have already informed our Head Boy and Girl, so the decision must be common consent." He waved his wand and tiny slips of paper floated through the air to fall before their places at the table. "Simply trace a 'Y' or 'N' with your finger, and I shall take a secret ballot."

Dumbledore collected the pieces of parchment with a flick of his wrist and unfolded them one by one to reveal shimmering golden letters. "Yes…yes…yes…yes…" Tired features then broke into a smile. "The decision is unanimous, and we shall continue on our endeavor. If there are objections, please voice them now."

Silence.

"None? Then we shall commence. You have all received your classes and times, and all that remains is to know what to teach."

"Which is…?" asked Remus dubiously.

"Simply all that you have learned in your years at Hogwarts. Although of course, you will need these." Textbooks dropped onto the table with a loud thump, and they opened the covers to skim through the contents.

Dumbledore's clear blue eyes sparkled at their faces, which were quickly beginning to show understanding. "Yes, Mr. Potter," he silenced the boy, "all essay answers, questions, and such are written in. Convenient, isn't it?"

"Thank you, Professor," said Lily. "This will be quite helpful, I'm sure." She glared at the others, daring them to disagree. _Come on_, whispered a voice inside her head, _just go and try it…_

Fortunately no one took her bait, as they were too busy browsing through the pages and formulating ways to guide, no, _teach _a group of easily excitable younger students. Then the clang of a bell, and Dumbledore stood up lightly to wave them out.

"Professor Lupin…I like the sound of that," Remus winked.

* * * * *

The next day marked the beginning of their new teacher positions, and the seven Gryffindors gathered in the common room, each planning to wish the others luck. There was a moment of uncomfortable silence before Lily cleared her throat.

"Uh, well, have fun, and I guess that's it," she muttered in a barely audible voice that came out in chunks and pieces.

"Not a problem." James winked and strolled out of Gryffindor Tower. And they followed. All the way to the Great Hall, the other professors-to-be hung behind his easy, lean figure as he trotted through the halls. They ate in silence, quite unusual for such group, and lingered at the table until most other students had already exited. Only then did James rise from his seat and start for the hall of classrooms.

He easily towered above the clusters of first years milling about the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. Waving Lily over, though there was no real need, James leaned against a wall and waited for them to walk in. Once the hallways had cleared, he strode into the room after Lily and shut the door with a bang.

"Right then," he began with a carefree grin, "I would believe that Professor Dumbledore has told you of the situation?"

Heads bobbed up and down; one boy with a shock of carrot red hair stuck his hand in the air.

"Yes, Mr. Weasley?" said Lily.

"I was just going to say that he told us that students would be teaching…what exactly will you be teaching, Professor Evans? Will it be better than the old teacher, at least?"

Lily twisted a strand of auburn around her finger before mustering the patience to answer Bill Weasley's always-endless stream of questions. "As of right now, we'll be continuing on some basic hexes and curses—"

"Possibly Unforgivables, if there's time," James cut in.

"Yes, and I would hope that you find our teaching slightly better than that of Professor Osbufation…wonderful man that he might have been." She paused to wrinkle her nose at his not-so-distant memory. "And simply refer to me as Lily."

"Same here, just James."

Rubbing her hands together nervously, Lily moved to the center of the room. "Right then, I think we should start…everyone, please turn to page three and read the section on the origin of curses, which should be review material from first year. Once you've finished, you can begin taking notes, and after ten minutes or so, we'll ask some questions."

Surprisingly enough, James was completely satisfied with her orders; more so was the class's instant compliance. 

* * * * *

Bright blue eyes snapped with a trace of annoyance in their depths, eyes that were foreign to the nation of England despite the length of time that they had resided there. They spoke of a world of ice and snow, forests and hills to the far North, reflecting the clear cold sky after the clouds had passed, golden sun casting its weak rays of light across the heavens and earth alike. And though they had not the liquid pools shimmering behind them and were not the least bit mesmerizing—no, far from it—Svetlana Raminov did not worry about them. Light sapphire accented blond hair quite well, at any rate. Besides, she received enough unnecessary attention already, and she was not inclined to become purposely seductive.

She spun on her heel to come nose-to-nose with the shadow that had trailed her to the classroom. Her forehead barely reached his eyes, but sheer unmitigated confidence compensated quite well. Severus Snape was not the overgrown bat the Marauders all thought he was; his composed, frustrated features held intelligence and passion, albeit a very good mask had been placed over it. But her own anger tended to flare whenever he stepped too near, and of course, the fault was all his. Today, of all days, he chose to be late.

"Well?"

"If you haven't realized already, Raminov, we've been scheduled to instruct the same first year classes…possibly because you've been arranged as a sacrifice? For me?"  
Sveta blew through her teeth impatiently. "Just cut it," she growled, "and don't scare them."

Ignoring her with a patent air of disdain, Severus swept into the room, the awe-inspiring look that he would become so famous for as an adult already mastered. "Good afternoon, class. My name is Severus Snape, and along with Svetlana Raminov," he gestured at the girl standing by him, "I will be instructing first year Defense Against the Dark Arts. You will address me as Professor Snape, or simply 'Professor'. Is that clear?"

"Professor Raminov, please, will do," Sveta added.

The room, previously chattering and filled with nervous energy, had settled into quiet fear. "No questions? Then we shall continue onto class requirements," said Sveta, forcing her voice to become calm rather than irritated. "Each one of you must bring to class a supply of quills, parchment, a wand, a textbook, any homework, and any other materials we may ask for."

"And why is no one writing this down?" Severus barked, and paced up and down the center aisle, ensuring that each skittish little first year had pulled out a quill and scribbled a few notes across a sheet of parchment. "Actually, before we try to go further…by a show of hands, how many of you are Slytherins?" He offered a light smirk as approximately half the class extended their hands proudly into the air. "Gryffindors?" Nothing. "Hufflepuffs?" The same. 

An uneasy sigh escaped her lips; Ravenclaws were typically amazing little kids, but extraordinarily difficult to keep focused as well. Added to Slytherins, the class would be restless at best and purely chaotic at worst. "Well then…" she attempted to begin, "can anyone tell me what he or she believes a Dark Art is?"

"Mr. Alners, yes?" Snape nodded at the Slytherin boy who had raised his hand. 

"Any form of magic that has been developed specifically to cause harm," recited Carson Alners, "especially curses, hexes, and jinxes."

"Excellent," he gave a rare smile. "Five points to Slytherin."

"But what about the most recent attack in the Netherlands, when someone had performed an Engorgio Charm on the Muggle's brain until blood vessels burst and he died of a stroke? Is that not Dark magic as well?" 

Steely-faced with determination, Carson jerked his head up and down in agreement. "That is something to think about then," said Sveta.

Severus drew her over to a corner of the room by the sleeve, purposely disregarding the students' curious looks. "Lovely, isn't it?" he hissed with horrible mirth sketched over his sallow features. "At this rate, your poor Ravenclaws don't have a chance."

"Whatever you think, they're not mine," she snapped in an ambassador's cold whisper. "If the class exists to boost your House points, then I'm afraid I shall simply ask Professor Dumbledore to force you to leave." To the class, Sveta continued, "Due at the next meeting is four inches of parchment summarizing the first ten pages on the rise of Dark magic, and you may start now."

He drew himself up to his full height and bore into the top of her head. "I should have known that no one from Potter's House can handle anything but keeping him safe from the ickle Slytherins."

AN: Sorry for the delay, but I've been busy with midterms and such, so this chapter might not be all that wonderful and amazing. So review and enjoy—also, if you have any interest in fantasy or LotR based RPG's, take a look at . It contains some Tolkien elements, but there are unique races as well…I'm the mod called ShadowWraith, and the admin is a real-life friend. Take a look if you have time ^.^

L8er,

-cybErdrAgOn 


	7. Chapter Seven: Twisted Relations

Chapter Seven: Twisted Relations

A few weeks later, the Gryffindor upperclassmen were seated before the fireplace in bold red armchairs, the picture-perfect image of House unity. Yet they neither spoke nor worked, each gazing into the snapping flames and thinking, dreaming, perhaps. Ah, the insanely unusual silence of the Gryffindor common room, thought Remus Lupin wryly. It was a sound he neither enjoyed nor heard often. He rolled his eyes and mentally composed himself before speaking and cracking the silence.

"So, how did everyone's classes go?" he asked, though his honey brown eyes still reflected the light of the fire, not the faces of his Housemates.

James stretched his arms over his head and yawned. "They were…interesting. You?"

"What do you mean, interesting?" Lily glared at him over the top of a book. "You would know, considering the effort you put in."

"It was an interesting experience," he smiled lightly, "and I believe the only one in which we've been in the same room for over ten minutes and maintained a state of calm. Though it might have been ten minutes since you just came down," he remarked.

Sveta cut them off with a sharp glance and said, "I'm sure mine with Snivellus were even more so. But more importantly, Quidditch tryouts are tomorrow, aren't they, Jamesie?"

"Yes, they are," he acknowledged quickly, rumpling his hair out of habit. "Anyone in fourth or fifth year trying out? Dunno what Gryffindor's going to do after we're gone—the whole team's in seventh year, except Tetley, and he won't be much of a captain." At that time, Sirius shot him a questioning look, and James quickly continued, "But of course, it's been the Golden Age of Gryffindor these past years…that's going to be hard to beat."

He rested his chin on a hand, grinning. "You all going to come down and watch as half the House beats each others' brains out for two team spots?"

On cue they laughed, and it was almost like the year before again. Back then they had all been so much closer, had shared the inexplicable bonds that they thought would last forever. But was it all breaking apart?

Then Lily lifted those big green eyes of hers from the ground and rested her indirect gaze on her hands, which were busily fidgeting with something in her lap. "I…I'm not sure if I can, I might have work to do," she murmured softly, evasively. "Besides, you don't need me there, right?"

_But oh yes, James does_, thought Remus with a shake of the head. It was really a pity that she didn't notice how much he wanted her, how much he was willing to sacrifice for her. Most memorable was the incident in the fifth year, when she had manipulated him into nearly getting expelled for trying to obtain some archaic potion ingredient in the Forbidden Forest, then panicking and drawing a wand on Professor Mescolare. But even more stunning was the expression on her face when she found out—disbelieving, which quickly turned into a "Hmph!" and a scowl disapproving of his actions.

He had seen James nod and shrug it off both times, not bothering to ask any questions and concealing the hurt. And he saw how he looked at her the same way as he, at a certain other dark-haired angel. However, the difference was in Lily's temperament. She had the stubborn streak and the subtlety of a roaring lioness that tended to surface at the most inconvenient times, whereas others at least knew tact. But Lily Evans amazed them all with her brilliance, her unabashed frankness, and if only she could look around a bit more…

_Sweet, beautiful Lily…when will you wake up to the light? When will you realize how to fix all that has been wrong to right?_

-------

They walked off the pitch side by side, two-headed dark figures in scarlet Quidditch robes, Sirius unable to resist a last chuckle and James half nodding, half contemplating the skills of the people who had tried out. It was the dilemma of the captain to decide who would be handed the glory of playing for the House, and few truly understood the delicate art of keeping all of the seven people on a team content. Quarrels were easy to start…over uniforms, over order of names announced, over any sort of stupid issue anyone cared to bring up. Sometime over the past three years, they had also decided that the more girls on a team, the less likely practices would be used to fly and to practice.

Thus, Sirius was rather happy to leave the captainship to James and give him as much counsel as he could. For instance, today he very much would have liked to remove the blond Chaser from the team who insisted on whispering in their ears every chance she got, adding to the sickeningly sweet and sticky air of the transition time between summer and fall. Annie Toblyn happened to be one of the most shy and talkative people in the entire school (how is that even possible?) and unfortunately, also one of the better fliers. James would never consent to take her off.

Sighing, he nodded mindlessly, wondering if even she knew what words came out of her wide mouth sometimes. None of the seventh year girls, at least, talked unless they had something of particular importance to say. Most characteristic was a certain auburn-haired Lily, who was headed straight for them.

He nudged his friend in the ribs just a little harder than necessary and nodded in her direction, but there was no need. James had already begun to offer the smile he always did and hurried ahead. But the expression on his face, once he had advanced a few steps, was not of flirting but of unmitigated shock. His hazel eyes opened until they were almost bulging out of his head, and then they looked aside and closed, dark lashes shielding them from the world as Severus Snape stalked into the open and stood beside her.

Loping forward, Sirius tilted his head questioningly, although by then Lily's radiant smile had disappeared and thinned into cold fury. "Don't you start asking me what's going on," she snapped at no one in particular, "because you know perfectly well like you always do. My name is Lily Evans, his name is Severus Snape, and I have NOT come to ask you about how Quidditch tryouts went!"

"What?" he sputtered loudly, as means of greeting. Looking around, Sirius saw no one but them, the Quidditch players, and Snape, and none of those three categories had done anything in particular to annoy her. Except perhaps Snape. "Speaking of _him_, you're not dating him, are you?" he teased, grinning. "Because it was just a joke…don't blame us, we were bored." Shaking a lock of dark hair out of his eyes, Sirius laughed but stopped as soon as he saw the look in her eyes. Sheesh, what was bugging her today?

"Matter of fact," she drew a breath, probably to prepare for the hundred or so words about to tumble out of her mouth all at once, "I _am_." Her voice was triumphant and hard, unlike the girl they thought they knew. "Now is that a problem for either of you?" Lily smiled sweetly, looking from one to the next, then back at Severus who was apprehensively watching the scene unfold.

He blinked several times in astonishment, rooted to the spot as they walked away calmly. Snape appeared awkward but happy, and Lily…god, she was putting on a damn good act if it were an act. Looking up to him adoringly. Smiling as though she'd never met him before. It was sickening.

With a low growl, he bounded forth, only to feel James' hand gripping his shoulder, restraining his impulses. Dimly Sirius heard his friend deny any need for action, and he sounded so dull and dejected his confusion had turned into anger to match that of Lily. No longer was it his own scorn for the slimy Slytherin git, but the maelstrom of emotions coursing freely though his blood fed off the knowledge that the entire situation was just wrong. James and Lily, the two of them were meant to be together. They both deserved better than the constant fighting, and Snape had come into play. Snape had taken advantage of the belle of the class. Sooner or later, there would be hell to pay, and he could nearly smell the upcoming clash as it approached.

Breathing heavily, Sirius turned and saw a lonely figure walking up the hill back to the locker rooms. Scowling once more at the couple rapidly vanishing behind a clump of trees—here uneasy thoughts filled his mind—he dashed off after him, long legs hitting the grass at perfectly even intervals. At least that felt good.

-------

He barely cared that Lucius would object to the pixie-like, energetic Gryffindor girl walking by his side. It was enough that she had chosen him over Potter—the only student in the entire House whom he considered an intellectual equal. Lily, Lily, Lily. Snapping black eyes softened as they alighted on her delicate, glowing features, and he allowed the faintest hint of a smile to come through the shell of ice that had been built up over the years, encasing him in an impenetrable frozen exterior. "_Yet am I softening?_" he asked himself, peering over a large, hooked nose. If so, that mattered even less…as much as he hated to admit it, her presence had a calming effect on him, smoothing over the razor-sharp flashes of sarcasm he was known for. But if the Slytherins thought they had lost him, they would soon discover that Severus Snape was not to be underestimated.

And despite the comfortable silence between the two, he was unsure whether she was acting truthfully, or just out to spite her longtime pursuer. Then again, Gryffindors could not lie.

Rounding a corner, he stopped just as the boy in mention stepped into view. In typical manner, Severus eyed him coolly, resting just a moment longer on the wand gripped so tightly that the knuckles of his fingers were white. An expression of rage on James' face, he nonetheless stood still and stared at their proximity. How painful it must have been for him to watch. How entertaining that he had come to rescue his crush from the grips of the scary Slytherin, when she didn't want to be rescued.

"Yes, Potter?" he drawled smoothly, lifting a questioning brow but saying no more. Then turning to Lily, he saw the dismayed frown and nearly smirked. It was instant rejection, and it amused him to think that Potter the ladies' man could be turned down.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the twitch of a finger and whirled around. Their wands were both raised. Severus narrowed his eyes and was matched glare for glare. And the tension rose, neither willing to let loose the first spell but both eager to win. Contrary to popular belief, that particular desire was universal and one of the strongest that existed…even in the highest classes that were known for erasing passions from their minds.

Suddenly a jet of light sprang from the mahogany wand he had seen so many times, and he had no inclination to politely step aside. Instead Severus pushed Lily back and returned the curse. Spell after spell, shield after shield. They broke into a steady pattern that allowed no room for breath, nor time for thought—_by the Lady, that one hurt_—and he swore and dodged. A whirl of bodies and flapping robes and wands hot to the touch, like tempers, were all.

James threw himself to the ground and from there, fired sparks upwards. Soon a teacher was going to come, but oh, no matter…

A trickle of crimson flowed down the pale hand that gripped a wand with such familiarity. But there was no pain, no sense of injury. All his mind was focused on the next jinx about to be let fly…

And then, just as suddenly, they both fell back against the wall and panted heavily—a temporary truce of sorts, sans word, sans honor and waiting to be broken. It left the door wide open for anything unexpected.

"_Expelliarmus_," finally snarled Severus in a voice barely above a cold, cold whisper. "And now let us talk like civil men."

But before he had time to finish his sentence, James had leaped forward and seized the wand in midair, so reminiscent of the cursed ease with which he caught Snitches and made the Gryffindor girls swoon. "Talk? Look who's talking," he retorted.

Severus smiled cruelly; just barely he could see Lily's mouth open in a little "o", agape in horror. "Yes…I merely question your motives…especially whether or not they even exist."

He held up a restraining hand as Lily began to trounce over, waiting for the reaction. Oh yes, it would be a reaction of retribution for the past…what, five years? Only one minute of both their time and he would be content. At least for the time being.

James blinked several times, as if finally stumbling upon the truth, and walked away rapidly. Quietly, Severus and Lily watched him disappear into the maze of corridors, and a low sigh escaped from not only one of them. He took her into his arms in a brotherly fashion, albeit awkwardly, and allowed a few tears to fall onto his robes before drawing away again.

"Lily," he stared into her red-splotched but still beautiful face, "_we _need to talk as well…"


	8. Chapter Eight: Lily's Kiss

Chapter Eight: Lily's Kiss

The next time James saw her was in the NEWT Potions class, dashing into the dungeons a split second before Professor Mescolare stalked inside. Lily walked to her seat with her head held high, avoiding eye contact. As she passed by, he reached out to tap her arm, catch her attention…and she flung him a withering glance before continuing on her way.

"Evans," he called out, exasperation in his voice. When he looked up again, a pair of flashing dark eyes stared down at him. A leather boot clicked against the hard stone floor, ominous as the snap of a scorpion's tail, many of which rested in jars around the room. The class was silent, waiting, tense in anticipation.

He saw her brows raise before she turned to the class with lips curved into a crisply broken slash of a smile. Then she strode to the front of the room and stood there, straight and lean and full of mockery as a student would be, rather than a full professor. The fabric of her robes fell about her with a certain formality, but one somewhat marred by the mottled fade of the black cloth unlike that of the polished Potions master James had seen last year. Odd to say the least, he thought with a returned expression of nonchalance. He vaguely recalled his parents mentioning something about the family of Mescolare, yet likely as not about some Potions master of Hogwarts. Still…he wouldn't mind all the gossip, if things were different.

"…And finally, many of us would greatly appreciate if Mr. Potter attempted to reconcile his personal life in his dormitories instead."

Slouching comfortably in his seat, James shrugged. "Of course, Professor." He glanced at Lily and whispered, "I'll see you then."

By then, she had begun to outline the procedure for the day's lesson, but that particular formality could wait. Abruptly her head jerked up, her eyes flashed again before the expression turned into a very Slytherin amusement. "After class. By the way…perhaps it would be prudent for you to avoid such crass comments in the near future, no?" The class snickered, even his friends, and James flicked a glance at Sirius, first nodding lightly. At that, she seemed satisfied and proceeded with the potion they were to be brewing that day. One disaster averted.

His partner was none other than Sirius Black, conveniently enough. As James stood to procure the various ingredients, he noticed a shock of flaming hair by the bat-like figure in the back. He nearly threw up.

After a few minutes, they had a bubbling concoction in the cauldron, and it changed colors sporadically from turquoise to lime to the deepest shade of vermillion. An odorless smoke drifted lazily over the edge of the pot, effectively obscuring their view of the slimy vampire getting his hands all over their Lily.

But it couldn't shield James from the small, quick steps as she passed by, nor the light cloud of fragrance that penetrated the yellowing vapors. His nose twitched, and he breathed in the scent of floral nights, the clean juxtaposition of white gardenia and white jasmine; the gardenias dominated, but they were beautiful and hopelessly sweet and pure; he knew it well after seven years, but he could not help but desire it, desire ­_her_ even more. And he heard her walking away, but he did not want to think of it more than was necessary.

"James!" muttered Sirius, eyeing the potion. When that elicited no response, he flicked his friend on the shoulder and shouted, "James, what the hell are you doing…plan on adding the ginger root? Y'know, only five minutes of class left, Mescolare wants a sample by the end…say, even feel like answering me today?"

Blinking, James shook his head. "Oh, of course…and no ginger root in this," he added, checking the instructions. He wiped the droplets of sweat from his forehead and he ladled some of the now-clear potion into a small glass vial. Sirius rolled his eyes and set it onto the professor's desk, mumbling about lovesick Prongsies. But James couldn't care less, because Snape was already walking out the door…and he had an arm around Lily's waist.

_The bastard. He didn't deserve to live…_

-------

That night Lily Evans stood at the top of the Astronomy Tower, pacing from side to side. It was conveniently deserted, since the nip in the air convinced the snoggers to find a warmer place for their erm, activities. She blushed even as she shivered. She had never touched a bloke, not like that, and once in a while she wished she had. After all, she couldn't well spend the rest of her life being "too good for you," could she?

And honestly, no matter what Potter thought, she saw threads of shining goodness flashing through the bottomless shadow that was Severus Snape. He made sense to her, and during the past few weeks he had never tried to push her too far, too fast. Maybe, by all conventional standards, she should be able to snag someone better. But she had never held much stock by what the girl down the street thought of her hair when her own hair looked like a wet dog's tail.

Bottom line, she liked Severus for who he was. The world could reckon with that while she got her first kiss.

"Evans."

Evans, not Lily. She turned slowly and nodded as the cloaked figure stood motionless and expressionless behind her. The twinkling light of the stars caught his profile in sharp relief, and for a moment she thought that he looked like the son of a Roman senator, with his hooked nose and strong, craggy features. The black sheep, perhaps, but a senator's son nonetheless, came to meet his girl by the light of the stars.

"Severus."

Without another word Lily threw her arms around him in a deep, concerned embrace. It took a few seconds before he moved, as though woken from a dream, and stiffly brought his arms around her. Then he stepped back, and his glittering black eyes roved over her fair face. For some reason, Lily knew that she would have to wait some more before being kissed for the first time.

"We can't really go on like this, can we now?" He smirked and gestured down the flight of stairs. "Sooner or later, someone somewhere will say something."

She shrugged. "You don't believe in Slytherin's mystics or Potter's threats any more than I do. Let them say whatever they want, I don't care. I mean, I don't care as long as you don't, and—"

"No, I'm quite serious. We can't go on if we both want to save our skins."

"And why is that?" she demanded hotly. She refused to believe the words coming out of his mouth. Surely he didn't mean it anyway, and if he did, she could change his mind. They were some of the best witches and wizards of the past decade, someone had said. They could handle anyone, anything together…even James Potter.

"Evans," he drawled, "you don't seem to realize there's a war going on, and some of us aren't so lucky to have the…liberty to do whatever we so choose." He ran a hand under her chin, caressing the smooth elegant lines of her neck, tilting her head up so that her eyes met his. "What some people would do to stand in my shoes," he muttered.

"Besides, you forget that I'm an evil Slytherin, like your friends say, and you apparently deserve better than that slimy git Snivellus," he said more loudly, his hand still resting on her neck. "Honestly you do. You'll be a better witch than half the rabble running around the school these days. You deserve better than me, better than Potter."

"No," she protested, "I've never thought that I'd rather have someone else." Even though the words sounded empty in her head, she barreled on anyway. "I, I…"

Her words were lost as he lowered his head to brusquely press his mouth onto hers. He stayed there for only a second before he straightened, looking at her with an expression inscrutable in the darkness.

"It's been good times, Evans, so take care." A cruel smile that did not quite reach his eyes, and he wrapped his cloak around himself with a flourish as he began to descend the stairs. Then he stopped and turned his head over his shoulder. "With any luck, we might even see each other alive again…" The open sentence hung in the air. "Mudblood."

In all the trashy romance novels her sister read, the lover's words always echoed in the room or on the wind for minutes afterwards, reverberating through the once-lover's head. Lily, however, felt nothing, just a little numb and a little cold. She heard nothing except the gentle rasp of her own breathing, and she knew she was truly alone. The grounds lay below her like a desolate ocean, and the skies above exactly the same.

Until she thought that he had disappeared into some forgotten corridor, she gazed out over the lawns and woods and lake. Then she dashed down the spiral staircase, past five or so open doors, and ran outside as far as she could. Her breath came out in ragged puffs of vapor, and she bent over, hands on knees, trying to get in that elusive last gasp of air. Oblivious to the dew, Lily collapsed against a tree trunk and slid to a sitting position, huddled with her legs drawn up to her chest. Under the shade of the great beech tree, itself underneath a great canopy of a sky, she had never felt so insignificant, so alone, so little.

Her green eyes blank, she stared at the lapping waves with a dogged determination. One Lily Evans would _not_ mope, sulk, or otherwise make a fool of herself over some…some slimy Slytherin git. She no longer had any idea of the "way of things," as he used to refer to life. Did he really think that? Was he just talking? Was she fooling herself all along? Everything seemed possible, and at the same time none of it made any bloody sense to her, even if it did to him in some twisted way. Was this what it was like to have a broken heart? She laughed weakly at the thought. Then the tears came. They swelled up in the corners of her eyes and rolled down her cheeks one by one in silence, like a procession of mourners at a funeral. A funeral for her first love was marching by.

A wolf howled in the distance, followed by a deep, gruff bark. Lily shivered and pulled herself to her feet. A quick walk around the grounds would do her good, she decided, and then it would be off to bed for the night. She had had enough of this standing around, stuck-to-the-spot business.

AN: Wow it's been a while. I'm going to college in the fall, so I'd like to finish this by then…I hope. There's a good amount more to go. Reviews are appreciated.


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